chickens if you irritate me enough.”
“You still use that spell, do you?” Evariste gave up all pretenses of sleeping and stood up, stretching his arms out.
“From time to time,” Angelique said. “It is a surprisingly effective distraction.”
As Marzell continued to boss the warriors into proper positions, Angelique dug in her satchel—she still hadn’t changed out of her disguise-tunic—and unearthed her bespelled mirror.
“If you’ll excuse me, I need to contact someone before I take my rest rotation.”
Rupert frowned at her. “You could contact help all this time, and you didn’t?”
“I can contact help, but I cannot—in fact—instantly transport them to my side,” Angelique snarled. She froze, realizing what she’d said, and glanced at Evariste.
He still wore that faint look of contentment he hadn’t lost since stepping through the mirror. “You mean to contact Clovicus?”
“Yes.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll listen in. I’m very eager to see him again—finally,” he said.
“Of course!” Angelique slightly bowed her head, then picked her way through the askew furniture, stopping by a window.
She didn’t care if the warriors heard what she had to tell the Lord Enchanter—they were allies, after all—but she needed a bit of light, or Clovicus wouldn’t be able to see her in the nearly dark room.
She twitched back one of the velvet curtains (half blinding herself in the golden light of the morning sun), then plucked at the spell that powered the mirror, directing it to search for Clovicus.
“Angelique? Did you free Queen Faina? What happened?” Clovicus started talking when the mirror’s surface was still swirling, before the spell completely settled into place and displayed his bright red hair and tired eyes.
Angelique laughed, overjoyed that for the first time in a long time, she could share happy news with the enchanter. “Queen Faina is safe, and the Chosen who were bespelling her have been chased out. But that’s not all!”
“What is it? Spit it out—I’ve been traveling nearly nonstop to get back to the Conclave to help you,” Clovicus said.
She was barely aware of Evariste’s presence at her side, until he leaned in upon hearing Clovicus’ voice. “Hello, Master Clovicus,” he said with a hint of mischief and warmth in his voice.
“Evariste?” There was a sense of wonder to Clovicus’s voice as he jammed his face against his mirror. “Is that really you?”
Evariste moved a tiny bit closer to Angelique, so the side of his head leaned against Angelique’s. “It is. Angel fished me out of the mirror I was trapped in.”
Clovicus’s strong, handsome face crumpled, and his shoulders shook with the force of his emotion as he spoke in a broken voice. “Evariste—you bratty rascal.” His eyes were glossy with tears, and a choked chuckle escaped from him. “I’m so glad you’re back.”
Angelique had never doubted the Lord Enchanter was fond of Evariste, but his reaction made her realize just how deep the bond was.
“Of course,” Evariste grinned. “I could never leave you to live out the rest of your old, dried up life in peace. That’d be too nice for you.”
“You better not, you runty mouse,” Clovicus declared. “If you ever get yourself captured again, I will drag you across the continent by your ear!”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Evariste said.
They have a very different relationship than Evariste and I—even though we are also technically master and apprentice. I’m sure, though, it’s the difference in personalities.
Angelique couldn’t imagine Evariste using similar nicknames or threats on her. He was far more prone to coaxing and spoiling her. Perhaps it was that he had an entirely different teaching method?
“How did you get him out, Angelique? What transpired at Glitzern? You must tell me everything!”
After filling Clovicus in about the mirror, Queen Faina’s rescue, and the Chosen’s escape with said mirror (as well as the bad news that Snow White had delivered about the cold trail), the Lord Enchanter was in high spirits, and much of the weariness Angelique had seen in him when the spell first connected had been buffed away by his newfound joy.
“Angelique is right,” Clovicus declared. “It’s of top priority that Prince Severin is informed of all of this. I can contact him—and Stil; I’m certain he’ll be glad to hear you’re out, Evariste. But as far as I’m concerned, we can keep news of your freedom quiet from the Veneno Conclave. Particularly since we have established that there is a Chosen member somewhere within its ranks.”
“How far away are you from the Conclave?” Evariste asked.
Clovicus scratched his chin. “I should arrive in two or three days—maybe a little later